Page 18 of Unethical

“You should probably go home and take care of yourself, doc. You’re in no condition to psychoanalyze anyone else when you’re so fucked up.” I release her face and straighten my spine.

“Maxim,” she says, sternness in her voice.

“Take care of yourself,” I tell her again, leaving no room for her objection. “And count today as a full session.”

Her lips part, but she swallows her words. She’s going to be a good girl and file this as a full session. She’s going to process what happened in those woods and come back braver than ever. She’s going to come back ready for me. As much as I’d love to take advantage of her vulnerability, I want the doc that fights me, not the one who’s breaking in front of me.

I won’t tell her I’ll see her next week, because I don’t plan to wait for our next session to see her. Instead, I lean down and smirk at her. “See you soon.”

Chapter Sixteen

Sarah

Ibrush my teeth before bed, feeling more myself today than I did yesterday. I forced myself to take the day off after Maxim, of all people, made me take time to myself. His erection has not been forgotten, but I’ve been too tired to acknowledge it further.

Besides, he seems like a guy who would get off on your anguish, and I was really struggling by then. Maybe I’ll say something about it next week. What the hell would I even say, though?

Hey, Maxim. I noticed you had an erection last week.

Gag. I would rather pretend I didn’t see it at all.

I turn off the light in the bathroom, climb into my welcoming bed, and sink beneath the down comforter. I’ve spent most of the day like this, but I think that’s exactly what I needed. I sure as shit wasn’t going for another run, that’s for sure.

As my head hits the pillow, I can’t stop thinking about that exact thing, though. That run. What it turned into. My hands begin to shake as I relive the memory, and I interlace my fingersover my belly to control the tremble. It’s been on my mind a lot, playing on repeat.

The terrifying mask.

The way he touched me.

The way my body responded to him.

Jesus, that’s what I keep focusing on the most. If I was so scared, if I truly didn’t want it, how did I come?

You know better,I argue with myself.

If anyone should know that victims’ bodies betray themselves all the time, it’s me. It’s a completely normal phenomenon, and I’ve explained that to clients more times than I can count. It’s not my fault I went for a run. It’s not my fault I was attacked. I keep chanting that on repeat in my mind.

I keep saying it until I fall asleep.

A soft warmthhovers between my legs. A curtain of heat drapes me, over and over. I blink awake, wrapped up in a tired haze. I can’t orient myself in this darkness, and I feel like I’m stuck in a dream. I try to roll over, but I’m locked in from the waist down.

Yeah, it’s gotta be some kind of dream. Half-body sleep paralysis coupled with lucid dreaming or some shit.

Instead of floating and feeling weightless, I’m weighed down and stuck to my mattress. I make a mental note to look up the meaning of this kind of dream. It probably means that my life is a fucking mess.

That warmth draws my attention again. A soft moan rises into my throat and rolls over my lips. I reach down to feel the source of the warmth my brain has conjured up in this dream,and my fingertips meet with slack plastic. The scent of latex wafts from beneath the blankets, bringing me back to the woods.

I’m not dreaming, I’m having a fucking nightmare.

“Wh-what?” I whisper, trying to sit up.

Hands hook my hips and keep me in place. “Shh, it’s just a bad dream,” he growls. “Now let me make it better.”

That warmth is back on me, but I can’t see him. I can’t even see my fucking hand in front of my face. He’s a demon lurking in the darkness and hanging on to me. But then I realize what’s causing the warm pleasure between my legs.

It’s his mouth, and he’s eating me out. No...he’sdevouringme.

Now I know I’m not dreaming anymore. There’s a real psychopath between my legs. But why is my brain telling me to just lie there and pretend there’s not a criminal,thecriminal, between my legs again? I’m a slut for the rising pleasure radiating from my crotch, driving into my spine, and twisting like a snake coiling in my gut.

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